


not really anything (not really nothing)

by theagonyofblank



Category: Figure Skating RPF, So Nyuh Shi Dae | Girls' Generation
Genre: Crack Crossover, F/F, I Don't Even Know, Sorry Not Sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-25
Updated: 2014-02-25
Packaged: 2018-01-13 18:21:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1236445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theagonyofblank/pseuds/theagonyofblank
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hyoyeon slurps her noodles and tries not to fidget when she notices the way Kim Yuna—“just Yuna is fine”—is looking at her over her bowl.</p>
            </blockquote>





	not really anything (not really nothing)

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by [this video](http://vimeo.com/48931384) here. 
> 
> How I arrived at this is a long story in itself, but the short version is that I had already set out to write a Hyoyeon fic because I have a huge soft spot for her (and think she's overlooked and underrated), and when I saw this video, I knew I had to write Yuna into the story.
> 
> I apologize for any timeline discrepancies. I did the best research I could while writing this.

It’s another crazy week, but what else is new?

Her schedules run from seven to seven for all seven days of this week.

But guest appearances on TV and radio shows mean that she’s likely to stay later, because something always goes awry. It’s not that Hyoyeon minds staying later – she knows the crew works long after the idols leave – it’s just that it’s only Wednesday, and she’s already bone-tired. The thought that she has four days more of this is unbearable.

(She wants to know, sometimes, how Taeyeon manages it, but Taeyeon still hosts radio shows in her sleep, so Hyoyeon suspects she just really enjoys her work.)

 

*

Hours of stylists and make-up artists pulling at her hair, pinning her clothes in the back for a tighter fit—Hyoyeon knows she’s pretty, that she’s on the skinnier side of things, but every minute in the studio makes her feel uglier and uglier—and then she’s free.

She escapes into the cold winter air, checking her phone for any missed texts or calls. 

It’s from the members, of course; it’s always from the members.

 _Hyo-unnie,_ types Juhyun in the group chat, _fighting!_

 _Are you too popular for us now?_ writes Sooyoung, and Hyoyeon imagines that the tone is threatening – though probably not as threatening as Sooyoung had intended.

_She’s too popular to come on my radio show~~_

_You don’t have a radio show anymore, Taengoo,_ is Yuri’s response.

 _We never see you anymore,_ is from Jessica. _We miss you._

 _Don’t you guys have your own schedules to worry about-_ is what Hyoyeon finally settles on, and sends it off quickly before slipping her phone back into her purse.

The sun has long set but 7-Eleven is always open.

 

*

She’s reaching for a packet of soup – the very last one in the store – and knows that Juhyun has rubbed off on her when she imagines how terrible preservatives, sodium, and whatever else makes up instant soup must be for her.

But beggars really can’t be choosers, and it’s almost midnight, and Hyoyeon is starving.

Juhyun can reprimand her later; for now, she really needs—

“Hey,” she protests, watching as the packet is lifted from its box and away from her. Her voice is a little higher pitched than she’d like it to be, but who in the world steals packaged soup from right under her fingers? It’s _packaged soup,_ for goodness’ sake. 

Her eyes follow the packet to the polished nails and slim arm that’s attached to it, and when she glances up, it’s to a round face and almond eyes, widened in surprised.

“I’m sorry,” says the woman, bowing so that her hair falls into her face. When she looks up again, she tucks a few strands of hair behind her ear, and holds the packet out to Hyoyeon apologetically. “I didn’t realize you wanted this.”

There’s something about this woman, though.

Hyoyeon can’t shake the nagging feeling that she’s met her before.

“Um.” And there it is: a smile. Hesitant, but familiar, and it hits Hyoyeon then, who this woman is. “Are you okay?”

And now she can only gape.

“You’re—”

Words escape her.

She’s been on the receiving end of such treatment, of course: mainly from fans who are too shy to speak to her, and occasionally from a starstruck trainee or even fellow idol. But it’s never happened to her before – not like this, at least.

“—stealing your purchase, apparently,” finishes _Kim Yuna_ for her.

Kim Yuna.

This is _Kim Yuna_ , whose face was plastered across billboards and magazines following her Olympic gold.

National sweetheart Kim Yuna.

Figure-skating legend Kim Yuna.

“No,” starts Hyoyeon, and then she shakes her head. “Yes.”

Kim Yuna laughs, and Hyoyeon wonders what’s so funny. “I know you.”

“You do?” Hyoyeon’s eyebrows jump up of their own accord.

“Yeah,” Kim Yuna smiles as she puts the packaged soup down. “I do.”

 

*

They go for a midnight snack – which, actually, is Hyoyeon’s dinner – at Hyoyeon’s suggestion, because between the both of them (“Isn’t instant soup really unhealthy for figure skaters?” And the answering retort: “Isn’t it really unhealthy for idols?”), they could probably do with some proper food.

Not that beef noodles are particularly healthy, but at least they’re fresh.

Hyoyeon slurps her noodles and tries not to fidget when she notices the way Kim Yuna—“just Yuna is fine”—is looking at her over her bowl.

It’s flattering to think that Yuna has heard of the group, has heard of _her_ , given how much time she spends abroad training. But as Hyoyeon sets her chopsticks and spoon down, she recalls that Taeyeon had done a program with Yuna. Singing or something, a few years back.

That was before Hyoyeon became a fan.

As though reading her mind, Yuna’s next words are, “How’s Taeyeon-ssi?”

“She’s well,” Hyoyeon responds. It’s the party line, but it doesn’t make it any less true. “She’s really busy, but doing well.”

“We were on a show together,” Yuna shares.

Hyoyeon nods, a polite smile on her lips, and wonders if it would be awkward to admit to already knowing this. Would it make her seem like too much of a fan? Hyoyeon has plenty to say about her own fans – not that she’s not grateful for their support, but the ones who always seem to know the group’s schedule better than she does… That’s never as flattering as it is disconcerting, and Hyoyeon doesn’t want to scare Yuna off like that.

(But perhaps she’s already used to it.)

Yuna’s quiet sigh breaks the silence, and Hyoyeon snaps a questioning gaze to her. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” comes the reply, and Hyoyeon thinks that maybe, she’s just tired. She notes the wistful tone in Yuna’s voice when she adds, “It’s nice to be back in Seoul.”

“Most people want to leave,” Hyoyeon comments, and though she’s not talking about herself, Yuna looks surprised by the admission. “Life here can be...” Stressful, boring, a combination of the two—but Hyoyeon holds her tongue.

“I suppose monotony exists everywhere.” Yuna’s remark is wry.

“What’s it like in Vancouver?”

“Cold. I was mostly at the rink,” Yuna confesses with a short laugh. “I lived for the weekends, when I got to take a break.”

Hyoyeon understands that, and finds herself wishing for a break. Her schedule this week is unusual only in that she has no days off – usually, she prefers to leave one day free so she can unwind from the days of poking, prodding, and “artistic direction.”

“And the people there are friendly, but it’s not like here, you know?”

Hyoyeon doesn’t know, but she wants to.

“Everyone is so genuine here. I got lost the other day in Busan, and a few people stopped to ask if I needed help getting anywhere – I must’ve really looked like a foreigner,” Yuna smiles at the recollection. “And I have friends back home who have shown tourists around for the day, or even let tourists stay with them for the duration of their trip. Everyone takes care of you. But maybe that’s just Bucheon.”

“Incheon too,” Hyoyeon says.

When Yuna looks at her expectantly, Hyoyeon only shrugs. She doesn’t have any particular experiences to share – but she knows exactly what Yuna’s talking about.

“And the shops and restaurants close much earlier over there.”

“So if we’d been over there—”

“—we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now,” Yuna agrees. “Or maybe we would, but in a dingy bar somewhere.”

Hyoyeon laughs, thinking about the scandal that would undoubtedly erupt if photos were ever to be taken of a group member in a bar, and the scolding she would receive from her manager oppa. Probably nothing more than a light slap on the wrist: she doesn’t think she’s a big enough deal to warrant anything more. 

But then again, she distinctly remembers hearing, “The nine of you have to _harmonize_ ,” over and over and over again when they first started out – as though getting nine individuals who barely knew each other to take to each other was an easy task! – and if there’s a scandal with any one of them, it’s going to affect the group as a whole.

“What?” Yuna asks, the corner of her lips tugging up. “You don’t like dingy bars?”

“It’s not that,” Hyoyeon says. “It’s just that I can already picture the headlines if I were to be photographed coming out of a dingy bar.”

Yuna grins. “It could be worse,” she says. Off of Hyoyeon’s look, she elaborates, “You could be completely wasted. Or I could be a guy.”

“Or both.”

“Or both,” Yuna nods.

Hyoyeon smiles and sips her tea. She’s forgotten what it’s like to be able to talk to someone like this: relaxed and easy, and it’s probably the first time in months she hasn’t thought about work for more than an hour. She excuses herself to use the bathroom, and by the time she returns, Yuna is waving the waiter over and asking for the check.

“Oh,” says Hyoyeon with a slight frown, reaching over to take the bill as it arrives. “Don’t do that.”

Yuna places a hand on hers, and Hyoyeon freezes. “It’s okay,” Yuna says.

“I invited you,” Hyoyeon points out.

Yuna shrugs and slips her credit card to the waiter. “Take mine, please,” she tells him. And then, to Hyoyeon: “You can get the bill next time.”

Hyoyeon nods and slides her hand out from under Yuna’s.

It’s only when they’re pulling their coats on and saying their goodbyes that it occurs to Hyoyeon—

_Next time?_

 

*

Two weeks later and another late night, another 7-Eleven.

“I hope that’s not soup.”

Hyoyeon spins around at the familiar voice, and smiles when she sees Yuna. She holds up some bread wrapped in plastic. “It’s not.”

“It’s not any better than instant soup, though.”

“I don’t think ice cream counts as healthy eating, either.”

“Ice cream is perfect for dinner.”

“If you’re five, maybe. Is that a Cornetto?”

There’s a pause, and then it’s Yuna’s turn to suggest, “Dinner?”

“Only if I get to pay this time.”

Yuna smiles slowly. “Deal.”

 

*

This time, they stop by one of the noodle shops on a side street.

Well, Hyoyeon does, anyway, and she orders a bokkeum myeon.

Yuna, on the other hand, disappears. She returns with a small plate of rice cakes covered in orange-red sauce just as Hyoyeon’s noodles are ready.

Hyoyeon peers at the plate, sliding her own noodles over to the other woman. “Tteokbokki?” she asks, even though she already knows the answer.

Yuna looks up from the noodles, and maybe Hyoyeon shouldn’t be surprised that she’s actually trying some of them. She _did_ sort of offer, anyway. Yuna swallows and slides the bowl back over to Hyoyeon. “Yep.”

“That’s not a proper dinner,” Hyoyeon says disapprovingly, handing the paper plate back before picking up her chopsticks and digging in.

Unconcerned, Yuna shrugs and stabs the wooden skewer into a rice cake before taking a bite. “It’s my favourite.”

Up close, Hyoyeon can see that Yuna isn’t wearing makeup today. It makes her look younger. Fresher. Hyoyeon decides she likes it. It kind of makes her want to scrub off the remaining inches of powder and eyeliner on her own face, and she wonders what Yuna sees, when she looks at her.

“How are your noodles?”

“Good.” Hyoyeon pauses as the chopsticks are halfway to her mouth. “Wait a minute. Wasn’t I supposed to pay this time around?”

Yuna blinks at her. “Oh, right.” She pops another rice cake into her mouth and seems to consider this. “Well, you can always get me a bowl of noodles.”

From anyone else, it would have sounded presumptuous. But Yuna says it so matter-of-factly that it doesn’t occur to Hyoyeon to be offended. “The same kind?”

Yuna nods, and Hyoyeon stands to talk to the vendor.

Not five minutes later, she returns with a bowl of fresh noodles, only to find her own bowl empty.

“I got hungry,” Yuna says by way of explanation.

Hyoyeon doesn’t know what to think. She’s not angry—if anything, she’s amused, maybe a bit surprised—she’s not used to someone acting so familiar around her when this is only their second meal together. “Do you want some of this too?”

Yuna rubs a hand across the back of her neck and looks at Hyoyeon sheepishly, and for a moment, Hyoyeon is reminded of Sooyoung.

“What do you feed yourself in the daytime, really?” Hyoyeon asks, transferring some of the noodles over to the empty bowl.

“Nothing,” Yuna deadpans. “I just wait until I know you’re going to be at 7-Eleven, and beg for a free meal.”

Hyoyeon grins. “Sounds about right.”

 

*

Three nights later, it’s Yuna who contacts her first (and of course it’s Yuna, because Hyoyeon has no idea what she’d write to Yuna, if she did – not that she’s given it a lot of thought).

_Just got out of a meeting! Finally!_

_Why don’t any of the 7 Elevens carry more than one packet of soup?_

_I give up. Dinner tonight? I’m buying._

Hyoyeon reads the last one two hours after it’s sent, when she’s back at the dorm and plugs in her drained phone while she’s curled under a comforter with Juhyun, who’s watching Totoro “for old times’ sake.”

“Who’s that?” Juhyun asks curiously, leaning over as Hyoyeon is tapping out a reply.

“A friend,” Hyoyeon replies, shifting the phone away from Juhyun’s prying eyes.

 _How about dessert?_ she writes back once Juhyun is focused on the screen again.

She gets her answer in under five minutes: _Okay!_

 

*

The weather is still cold but that’s no reason not to have ice cream.

Well, Yuna makes a pretty convincing case for it, at any rate, and Hyoyeon can’t find a reason to argue.

“Long meeting, huh?” Hyoyeon says in greeting as Yuna sits down across from her, placing the large bowl of banana split in the middle of the table. “I didn’t know figure skaters had such a busy schedule.”

“Hey now,” Yuna says, the warning note in her tone obviously teasing. “Just because I’m not an idol doesn’t mean I don’t have things to do.”

Hyoyeon grins at that. “How does having a meeting prepare you for the Olympics, though?”

“Not everything’s about the Olympics,” Yuna retorts. “Not the one you’re thinking about, anyway.”

Hyoyeon doesn’t know what to make of that. “Okay,” she says, watching as Yuna helps herself to a spoonful of vanilla ice cream, slicing off a decent chunk of banana as she does so and balancing both on her tiny spoon. “So what _are_ you doing?”

Yuna looks at her for a moment, considering, and then replies, “Have you heard of All That Skate?”

“No.” Hyoyeon shakes her head and scoops some strawberry ice cream onto her spoon.

“It’s a figure skating show.”

“Oh,” she starts slowly. “Like Disney on Ice?”

Yuna smiles at her. “Yeah, exactly like that, just without Disney.”

“So you’re practicing for that,” Hyoyeon supplies for her, trying to fill in the blanks.

“I’m planning it.”

“Oh.”

Yuna is silent for a moment, and Hyoyeon wonders if maybe she should say something. But then Yuna elaborates, “It mainly just involves talking to sponsors, coordinating the acts and making sure everything’s running smoothly.”

“A lot of meetings?”

“Too many.”

Hyoyeon can relate.

She can relate to a lot of things Yuna talks about, it seems.

 

*

The next few weeks are busy for Hyoyeon – first whole-day recordings, and then CFs for a shampoo she's already forgotten the name of – and from what Yuna communicates to her via text, it sounds like the other woman is just as busy as Hyoyeon is. Something about sponsors pulling out at the last minute and having to find an appropriate replacement; it sounds like a huge headache, and Hyoyeon’s glad she only has to show up and dance.

 _Too tired for a bubble bath,_ Yuna writes one evening.

 _Rough day?_ Hyoyeon writes back, and follows it up with a, _Go to bed soon._

They text so often that the members start to notice.

“Are you texting your secret boyfriend?” Taeyeon asks after a particularly tiring day, completely without tact, as Hyoyeon is fiddling with her phone.

Hyoyeon directs a sharp glare at Taeyeon.

“Unnie,” Juhyun interrupts, probably trying to diffuse the impending argument before it begins. “Are you talking to that friend of yours?”

“Your special friend?” Sooyoung chimes in, just as Yuri says, “Hyoyeon has friends?”

“Is it that guy from backstage?” Jessica asks with all the enthusiasm of someone about to get her teeth pulled.

Hyoyeon sighs, exasperated. “I’m going to bed,” she announces as she stands.

Taeyeon pouts, but that’s most likely because she’s just lost her personal, human pillow. “Is that code for sexting?”

Hyoyeon turns red. _“Good night,”_ she says with a note of finality.

When she’s settled in bed, she cradles her phone between her hands, staring at the black screen before coming to a decision and pulling up a blank message.

_Why do I put up with the eight of them?_

A beep alerts her to a received message: _That’s a rhetorical question, right?_

 _Yes._ She bites her lip. _Early start tomorrow; bedtime for me._

_Good night._

 

*

Over the following month, through texts, the occasional phone call, and spontaneous dinner and dessert nights, Hyoyeon learns a lot about Yuna.

Like how her favourite ice cream flavour is vanilla, and how she’ll always eat that first in a banana split.

Like how she always tries to plaster a smile on her face, especially when she doesn’t understand something.

Like how she’s not a touchy person at all – “why do you think I never did pair skating?” – but then there are times, when they’re in a particularly crowded part of Seoul, that she’ll reach out to hold Hyoyeon’s hand.

And Hyoyeon lets her, because they’d probably lose each other in the crowd, but also because she doesn’t mind.

Yuna always lets go within five minutes, anyway, but Hyoyeon doesn’t miss the way their hands will still brush.

 

*

In April, Yuna enlists Hyoyeon’s help with dancing.

“It’s for the show,” she says.

Hyoyeon remembers that they talked about this, once, the very first time they met. “All That Skate?”

“Yes.”

And even though Hyoyeon is starting rehearsals for the group’s Japan tour, she agrees anyway.

It goes smoothly. Hyoyeon is late the few times she stays back to help Tiffany with the choreography, but Yuna is always understanding, brushing off Hyoyeon’s apologies and stilted bows with a smile. It turns out that Yuna is a quick learner, and Hyoyeon wonders if she ever needed her help with dancing.

“You know what works better, choreography-wise,” Yuna tells her on their third session, when Hyoyeon muses aloud. “But are you trying to tell me that you’re not going to teach me how to pop and lock?”

“I’m not going to teach you how to drop, either,” Hyoyeon responds, amused. Though she supposes it would be interesting to see those moves performed on ice – they’re practicing on solid ground right now, and she can only imagine how much better this is going to look as Yuna glides across the ice.

She demonstrates for Yuna, once again, how to move her shoulders, and then drops into a bend, rolling her body up in time with the music.

When she looks up and hits pause on the boombox, Yuna looks away quickly. “I guess it wouldn’t have fit with the song, anyway.”

“What?”

“Popping and locking.”

“I guess not.”

Hyoyeon rewinds and presses play again, and watches as Yuna attempts the move to the techno beat, stepping over and placing a gentle hand on the other woman’s hip or on the flat of her stomach from time to time.

“You’re thinking too hard,” Hyoyeon says with a slight frown. “You have to feel the music.” She pauses, trying to think of how she can explain this in a way that will resonate with Yuna. “Think about how you are when you’re skating along to music. This is exactly the same thing.”

Yuna’s next few attempts improve, and it must show on Hyoyeon’s face, because the other woman turns to look at Hyoyeon then with a bright smile on her face.

It’s new, the way her heart seems to beat double time at that, and Hyoyeon tries to mask her surprise by offering Yuna an exaggerated thumb’s up.

 

*

“I want to know who you’re spending all your free time with,” Taeyeon demands one evening, ambushing Hyoyeon right as she about to go into the bathroom. “What’s his name, and is he good enough for you?”

Hyoyeon knows that Taeyeon’s asking on behalf of the seven other girls, and probably for herself as well, and if Hyoyeon didn’t need to use the bathroom so badly, she would have laughed. “Taeyeon-ah,” she says, trying to get past the woman who’s blocking the entrance to the toilet. “It’s not a guy.”

“Fine. What’s her name, and is she good enough for you?”

“Yah! What are you talking about?”

“We live in the twenty-first century,” Taeyeon replies, not batting an eyelash – it’s as though she’s not talking about a taboo subject. “So, spit it out: her name.”

“Firstly, it’s Kim Yuna, and it’s nothing like that.”

“Kim Yuna?”

“Yes,” Hyoyeon replies irritably, shoving at Taeyeon.

“Kim Yuna, figure skater Kim Yuna? Kim Yuna, who-you-met-a-few-months-ago-Kim-Yuna?”

“Yes, that one,” she huffs, and pretends not to see the look of comprehension that dawns upon Taeyeon’s face. What’s there to understand about a friendship, anyway? “Can I use the bathroom now?”

Taeyeon moves aside. “We’re still talking about this when you get out!”

Hyoyeon closes the door in her face.

 

*

They have dinner one Friday evening in late April.

Somehow the conversation has drifted to men, of all things, and Hyoyeon can’t remember the last time she was this unenthused to talk about men; it’s usually one of her favourite topics.

“So,” Yuna is saying with a large grin.

Hyoyeon likes Yuna best when she’s like this: a little teasing and without a care in the world. She arches a brow and takes a sip of her water.

“What do _you_ look for in a boyfriend?” Yuna continues.

“Someone I can be myself with,” Hyoyeon answers thoughtfully.

Yuna’s expression is soft for a moment. “Yeah,” she finally says. “Isn’t that what we all wish for?”

When they part ways that evening, Yuna presses a light kiss to her cheek.

Hyoyeon’s so startled by the action that she forgets to breathe, and only relaxes when Yuna turns a questioning gaze to her. “You’re coming for the show next Friday, right?”

“Of course,” Hyoyeon manages, and hopes her cheeks aren’t as flushed as she feels.

They flag a taxi down, and there’s a brief disagreement about who should get in first—but Hyoyeon wins, because her apartment is within walking distance, and she closes the door for Yuna, raising a hand in a half-wave as she sends her off. She waits until the taxi has rounded the corner, before turning and walking down the street.

 

*

Next Friday comes quickly.

Jessica shoots her a look as she steps out the door. “Have fun,” she says, and despite the flat tone and the fact that her face is buried in a magazine, Hyoyeon can tell she means it.

“Thanks, Sica.”

The show itself is—amazing, for lack of better word. (Hyoyeon thinks that there aren’t enough positive adjectives to describe the hours she sits there, watching the figure skaters glide effortlessly across the ice.) Her eyes are glued to Yuna’s form throughout the entire performance, and she swears that the other woman looks directly at her, once or twice.

Her two solo performances are flawless, and Hyoyeon takes pride in the ease in which Yuna moves, quite literally dancing on her skates, when the faster beat starts up for her second solo.

“That was— you guys were— _you_ were really great,” Hyoyeon tells Yuna later that evening, stumbling on her words before settling on the right ones. She probably could have rehearsed that.

They’re backstage in the common dressing room. Almost everyone has cleared out, and now Yuna is removing her stage makeup, dabbing at her face with a damp cotton pad. “Thank you,” she says, looking at Hyoyeon from the mirror with a small smile. She hesitates, and then adds, “There’s a dinner tonight with the cast and crew. Would you like to come?”

“Sure.” Hyoyeon perches on the edge of a stool, watching Yuna intently.

“All right,” Yuna speaks after a few moments, tossing the used cotton pads into the trash and turning a wide smile on Hyoyeon. “Shall we go?”

Hyoyeon stands and smiles back. “Yeah.”

They’re almost out of the room when Yuna’s fingers catch hers, and she tugs gently. “Hang on. I forgot something.”

Hyoyeon glances back, and the question of what Yuna’s forgotten is on the tip of her tongue. Before the words have a chance to leave her mouth, however, pink lips are pressing against hers, and Hyoyeon is so surprised by the urgency, by the suddenness, that she squeaks, and the sound is swallowed by Yuna’s lips, Yuna’s mouth.

She doesn’t respond, at first, her back as stiff as a rod and her lips unresponsive. She feels more than sees Yuna pulling away – and when did her eyelids flutter shut in the first place? – but before Yuna has the chance to step away completely, Hyoyeon grips Yuna’s fingers tighter, and uses her free hand to pull her back in.

It’s not fireworks, but her heart is racing and she can't seem to stop smiling, and when Yuna swipes at the corner of her lip with her thumb and mutters, “Lipstick,” Hyoyeon’s struck with the urge to kiss her again.

That has to count for something, right?

 

*

In the weeks leading up to her departure for Japan – and it’s already been postponed due to the earthquake – Hyoyeon is incredibly busy.

When she’s not in dance practice, she spends her time with Yuna.

They visit restaurants and coffee shops and the occasional museum – anywhere where they can get some time to themselves, some time with each other.

It’s always in public, because as much as she loves the eight members, Hyoyeon doesn’t want them to scare Yuna off. And Yuna lives with her mother in the suburbs, so it’s hardly an alternative. Besides, they’re so new that the sorts of things Hyoyeon wants to do to Yuna probably shouldn’t be allowed. They resort to dark corners, and there’s an ongoing joke about a dingy bar buried in there somewhere, but they keep it chaste and make it work, exchanging lazy kisses when they’re sequestered in the back rooms of restaurants.

Sometimes, when Yuna laughs, Hyoyeon wants nothing more than to reach out, trace the outline of her smile with her fingertips. She thinks that maybe if she can capture a hundred moments of her smile, then maybe that will be enough to last her for the upcoming months. She restrains herself, though, and settles for squeezing Yuna’s hand instead.

“I’m thinking of taking a break this upcoming season,” Yuna confides in her over tea one day.

This is news to Hyoyeon, who can only say, “From skating?”

“From competing,” Yuna confirms, blowing on her tea.

“I think you should,” Hyoyeon agrees, and wonders if she’s projecting. “You haven’t stopped at all, have you, since the Olympics?”

Yuna shakes her head.

They finish their tea in amicable silence. Just before Hyoyeon sends Yuna off in the taxi, she leans over and places a quick kiss to the corner of her mouth. It’s risky, because they’re in public and anyone could see, but the way Yuna’s face lights up at the simple gesture makes Hyoyeon glad she did it.

“Have a good time in Japan.”

“I will.”

“Text me when you can, okay?”

Hyoyeon smiles. “You too, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

 

*

They’re not really anything, but they’re not really nothing, either.

And Hyoyeon’s okay with this.

 

*

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write something that was a little different from how like and love is usually portrayed in fic (or maybe it's always portrayed like this and I'm just late to the party), but something that is - hopefully - a little more real. I don't know if I achieved this, but feel free to let me know.


End file.
